Soror
by aorangeinboston
Summary: The three Harvelle women play an important role in the lives of the Winchesters. After the Winchester's attempt of killing the Devil with the Colt, the surviving two Harvelles refuse to back out of the fight to win the Apocalypse for humanity.


**November 13, 2009**  
>In a beat up truck parked in front of a beat up gas station on a beat up back road in the middle of nowhere, a man who was around twenty was leaning against the side, waiting to hear the click of a full gas tank as he filled up the gas tank.<p>

He turned back to check on the truck's other occupant, she was bent over looking at her phone again, her foot anxiously bouncing a thousand miles an hour against the floor. Since he had picked her up a few hours ago she had been constantly checking her phone; even though it was a habit that he had gotten used to over the past year, at the rate she was checking it he was starting to worry. There was a clunk and he looked back over at the screen of the gas pump, he replaced the gas nozzle to its holder and twisted on the cap to the tank before he leaned into her open window.

"Everything okay?" She jumped, flipping her phone shut before he could take a peek at what was making her worry so much.

She smiled, though he could tell that it was just her mask, "Yea, yea. It's all good. It's just a message I got, from my sister, random sentimental stuff." She bowed her head and looked at the phone in her lap.  
>He bent his head in through the window, trying to catch her line of sight, "Think anything is wrong?"<p>

She snorted and looked up at him, giving him a grin, "No, just might be her soul popping out for a visit."  
>He smiled back; her smiles had been getting rarer and rarer ever since she moved back in with her family, "Wow, never thought you were the one to be big on keeping grudges."<p>

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear she shook her head a bit, beating the purpose of the tucking her  
>hair back as it fell down again, "It's not a grudge. Just a running family joke."<p>

He tapped the sides of the jeep earning a metallic ring, "Fine I see, not gonna share. Pat says that they're already set up at the camp site."

She unbuckled her seat belt when she saw him make a move for the driver's side door, "Yea, um let me just get something from the store real quick and we can get going."

"I just went in there though."

She was already twenty paces ahead of him heading for the store, "Humor me."

"The bullshit that I put up with for you." Continuing her way towards the gas station the she turned on her heel and with a lady like smile flipped him off.

Pushing open the screen door, the girl peered inside looking for the direction of the cash register. Continuing the strong stride she had outside she closed the distance between her and the counter, though the power she seemed to hold diminished as she nervously fiddled with random bits of candy that were put at a child's eye level. "Hi. Um I was just wondering do you have any local newspapers that I can take a look at."

A bundle of two small newspapers were slammed onto the counter, "Here, that'll be seven fifty."

Her face dropped and her voice went up "Seven fifty?"

The man, who reminded her slightly of Bobby with his grizzly type of look, gave her a serious look, "It's a recession miss."

"And these are local newspapers not the New York Times." She laughed.

"Seven fifty."

"Here," In the same manner he had slammed the paper she paid her debt, "um I was wondering have you heard of any suspicious murders or deaths on the lake in the past year or so."

His shoulders shrugged and he gave her an odd look, it was obviously a question that only a small population of the United States asked casually, "Nothing out of the ordinary, drowning, gun accident, car accident."

"So nothing you know, really weird?"

"Not that I heard of."

She smiled and stepped backwards from the counter, "'Kay, thanks."

* * *

><p>On a dirt road, sandwiched on either side by a thick layer of woods, the boy let his eyes look off from the non-existent traffic and examined the girl. She was hunched over, reading the obituaries intensely, "I think you are the most paranoid person I have ever met.",<p>

She didn't look up, "Why?"

Before continuing his point he checked the road and readjusted the wheel avoiding a large pothole, "Every time we go camping you buy all these newspapers and are so jumpy. You do realize that we wouldn't put you in danger?"

She still didn't look up, her hair a curtain of curly amber blonde started to cut off her face from his view, "It's not that."

He reached over and tucked it behind her ear so he could see her face, "Well then..."

She sighed, "I've told you plenty of times, it's just the way I was raised."

"Your mom and sister don't seem like the kind that are going to be jumpy just cause they're in the  
>woods, you guys do own more guns then my dad does."<p>

Her attention was fully on the obituary of a college student who had drowned in the lake, he had grown up there and was on his way to becoming a world class swimmer, "Yea, yup."

"Lyssa!" His hand came down over the papers and crumpled them, the girl or Lyssa as she had been named looked up.

"What?" She was confused; she had given this explanation to him so many times before. Looking up now she was aware that he was also pulling off to the side of the road that was in the middle of the northern Minnesota woods.

He saw her tense up and his hand took her hand that was nervously playing with the frayed edge of her shorts, he softened his voice and put on a smile, "We'll be fine. Just relax okay." He took a breath, she was looking out the back windows of his jeep looking for something in the dusk light, "How about, you finally tell me the truth. And agree to let me take care of whatever is bothering you."

She let out an annoyed puff of air, a stressed smiled spread as well, "I don't wanna agree!"

He gave a short growl, and ripped back his hand, annoyed, he never got far with this topic, even when she was drunk and crying he never did, "You're gonna have to kiddo, unless you're going to tell me what you're worrying about I don't want to see you worrying at all this whole trip okay? If we're going to keep secrets we're going to hide them."

She crossed her arms and looked out the window as he started the car, a few moments later she pulled her phone out and looked over her messages again, "And that means we're going to stop looking at our phones and we're going to not look at the papers anymore, okay?" He grabbed the phone out of her hands and snapped it shut, dropping it into the cup holder that sat in between them.

She looked at the phone again and then up at him, his eyes now concentrating on the road again, "Yea."

"Great."

* * *

><p><strong>November 12, 2009<br>**The parts of a gun were laid out in an orderly fashion on a kitchen table; it being the Midwest this wasn't such strange to see this, and many citizens practiced their right to carry arms with them. Instead of a young stud model posing for a gun magazine or a middle aged man wiping the pieces down with a rag, a young pretty blonde was inspecting each piece up close to her eyes.

This had been the third time she had gone through the process of de-assembling the gun, going over it with a stained rag, even though her face kept a calm demeanor the two other occupants of the house could read through it clearly.

Lyssa interrupted the melody of clicking metal parts with her stomps into the kitchen; the woman looked up from her task and looked over the large backpack that made the girl bend her back over under its weight. Passing the threshold she trudged over to the table before letting the backpack to fall to the floor.

The weight of the bag made the floor and the table shake, causing a few of the parts on the table to shift, the lighter blonde glared up at who just joined her.

An older woman, who had been fussing with something on the counter, walked around Lyssa she, adjusted the bag so it was sitting upright, the blonde woman giving a small smile at the action.

The lighter blonde finally spoke, though in an absent minded manner, her interest returning to the gun, "Are you going to have cell service where you're going?" The older woman had turned her attention to the conversation going on between her two daughters.

Lyssa had sat herself in a chair, playing with the rag that had recently been discarded by the table's other occupant, "I'm not sure, but I'll try to call and check in."

"Any possible hunts near there?" The mother watched the interaction between them; her oldest would always feign her concern for her sister as interest in a possibly case.

Shaking her head Lyssa continued to fiddle with the rag, twisting it around her fingers, "Not any that I could see."

"Bring a flare with you just in case." The blond commanded, Lyssa rolled her eyes, their mother turning her back on them knowing what was coming next.

"We're not even going that far in, we'll be just on the outskirts of the park, near civilization and everything."

There was a fast clicking as the gun was being reassembled, "Just bring the damn gun Lyssa."

"Fine." Lyssa sighed, sitting her chin in her palm.

A sly grin slid up the young woman's face, "Now who are you sharing a tent with?"

"Rich and Connor." Lyssa attempted to play it off as the most casual circumstance.

Their mother turned around at break neck speed the towel she had been using to dry dishes with being  
>twisted tightly in her fists, "You're not going."<p>

There was a dramatic dragging sound as Alyssa stood from her chair which moved several inches, "Mom! I'm 18!"

With her eyes still glued to the gun, the sitting blonde smirked, "Yah, but you're staying with your boyfriend."

There was a stomp on the floor, "Jo keep your damn mouth shut!" Lyssa's voice had gone up several pitches.

Their mother's voice rose to match Lyssa's tone, "You're dating Connor?"

"No, Jo is just imagining things, now can you please drop me off before they leave without me?"

Exasperated, Ellen turned from her daughters and went back to the dishes she had started to rinse in the sink, "Fine, Jo drop her off and get some supplies on your way back."

* * *

><p>Jo's hands were at ten and two, gripping and re-gripping hard enough that her knuckles were a constant white, she watched her little sister in the rear view, scrambling in the backseat of her Jeep to grab all her things. After mentioning the hunt, tenseness had slithered its way into her sister's shoulders. She wanted her relaxed baby sister back, a quick grin jumped onto her face, "Use a rubber kiddo."<p>

A chortle came from the backseat, "Really Jo? I'm staying in a tent with my gay best friend and a guy who can't make up his mind about me."

Jo's hands loosened on the steering wheel at the tone in Lyssa's voice, "Even more reason to use one."

It died out within seconds though, "You and mom are shipping out."

"Just something small, Bobby called us in. Winchesters need help with something."

Lyssa barked a laugh, her and Jo's eyes met in the rearview, "And you're telling me to use a rubber."

"You're damn lucky I still haven't gotten you back for Philly." Jo had turned and pointed her finger at  
>Lyssa who was leaning in between the front seats.<p>

"Two and a half months grounded."

Her tone changed to that of mock animosity "Can you get out of the damn truck before your boyfriend dies of old age?"

Slamming the back door Lyssa leaned in the open passenger door and opened her arms to Jo.

"Love you to Jo."

* * *

><p><strong>November 2006<strong>  
>Sam's attention had been completely focused on the case file in front of him, finally his fear could be justified; clowns did in fact come in and kill families. While lifting up one of the papers to place it into the already viewed pile he had growing he noticed that the edges of the papers in the file were sticking together, wet from the condensation from his glass.<p>

"Shit." Standing he walked over to a table and snatched up some napkins, he looked up when he heard the front doors flutter open and closed. A girl, probably a high schooler guessing from the jersey that she was wearing walked in confidently, giving him and Dean once overs before she dropped her gym bag at the foot of the bar and volleyed herself up onto the counter and scooted herself behind the bar. Dean and him shared a look.

Dean straightened himself on his stool, "Aren't you a little young to be in a bar sweetheart?"

She only glanced up for a moment at Dean's hand, which was embracing a beer bottle, "Isn't it a little earlier to be in a bar sweetheart?" she bit out.

The brothers left the situation as just another mysterious layer of Roadhouse society, as long as she wasn't breaking into the cash register or downing a bottle of Jack they left the situation to play out.

After retrieving a brown bottle, a straw and a bag of ice she got herself back up onto the bar top, the bag of ice being simultaneously placed onto her knee as she twisted the bottle open. The brothers sent her a look again; Dean reached over and plucked the bottle out of her hands.

"Who drinks beer with a silly straw?" Dean drew out scathingly, the unnamed girl glared at him as she pushed the bottle up to his nose.

"It's root beer." Dean's hand slackened once he got a woof of what its contents were before allowing the girl to reclaim her bottle.

"Hey Lyssa." Jo called as she brought a case of beer in from the back room, Lyssa as she had been called responded with a choice finger.

Jo grinned at the brothers as she grabbed a piece of ice and walked up to the girls turned back, quickly she tugged the back of the girls shirt open and dropped the ice in.

"Jo!" Lyssa howled, she lunged forward, on the verge of falling of the bar Dean grabbed her forearm so that she could jump down onto her feet. The bag of ice had spilled onto the floor and as Lyssa got her footing she slipped again, Dean's hands retaking their position to keep her from falling. The younger girl's face was bright red.

"That's Lyssa, she does that." With a proud smirk Jo stood triumphantly behind the bar as Lyssa glared on.

Ellen walked in prompting Lyssa's immediate revenge.

"Thanks for picking me up Jo!" Lyssa sang as she grabbed her gym bag and hiked it up to her shoulder along with her backpack. Jo's face paled.

"Joanna Beth!" Sam and Dean looked at each other, slightly amused at how they were so suddenly forgotten.

"Hey we got distracted!" Jo emphasized by waving her arms in the Winchesters direction. She then turned to Lyssa "You better have not walked!"

Shaking Dean's grip off her arms Lyssa started to limp her way towards the back, she simply stated, "Friends with cars."

"That makes me feel reassured about your safety." Jo drawled.

A smug and knowing look came across Lyssa's face, "And you mentally undressing those two is really reassuring Mom about what type of role model she has for her youngest."

Sam smiled at the use of a younger sibling's intuition.

"Bite me Lyssa." Jo called as she started to reorganize glasses underneath the counter.

"Not my thing, but I'm sure one of them would love to." Jo shot up.

As Jo opened her mouth to respond and took a step away from the bar Ellen intervened, "Jo, Lyssa, bring some ice up from the basement."

"I brought ice up like an hour ago."

Lyssa laughed, "You had to use it all to keep your pants from catching on fire."

"Lyssa ice! Jo go start dinner!" Ellen's tone left no room for argument.

"Brat."

"Gosh Jo, pull your shirt up, no one wants to see that."

As both girls started towards the backroom again Jo ground out, "I'm going to kill you in your sleep."

"Girls." Ellen before she turned back to the Winchesters, a smile on, "You boys are staying for dinner?"

"Sure." Dean smiled. Ellen nodded and went through the same door as her daughters.

Watching the door for several seconds Sam then turned to Dean, he whispered, "What about getting to the hunt?"

"We'll get more research done here." Dean had that look in his eye. That 'I have a challenge look'; Sam had younger sibling intuition as well.

"Yup, research; you really love your research."

Dean took a sip of his beer, he smiled, "Sure do."

* * *

><p><strong>November 15, 2009<strong>  
>A boy, with a thick mid-west accent, was twirling his keys around his index finger and stood with a hand on his hip, "Making a beer run, anyone coming with!?"<p>

"Me!" Out of the woods came Lyssa, jogging with her phone gripped tightly in her hand. Even though she had promised to keep the worrying to herself, it didn't mean that it still didn't show itself in her appearance. There were dark circles under her eyes and a jittery sense to her movement.

Connor who was sitting around a fire pit with a couple turned sharply at her voice, "Lys?"

"I have to check my phone."

He shook his head and gave a bitter laugh, "Wow."

The others in the group were confused, over the two days that they had been camping Lyssa had seemed to be enjoying her time with Connor.

Her eyes turned to him and she took a defensive stance, her arms down by her side with her hands wrapped in Connor's large flannel, she looked like a child battling bath time, "Connor, my sister and mom went on a trip and I have to make sure they're okay."

Taking quick and deliberate strides he was standing in front of her in seconds, "It's just a trip." His hand grabbed her left fist and twisted the phone out.

The action gave more fuel to the fire that had been growing in Lyssa, "Give me my phone back."

"Lyssa, what did we promise."

"I didn't promise, and this is different, now give me my fucking phone."

"Here." His hand shoved it back into her chest, she put her hand over his and he slipped his out, leaving her clutching her phone to her chest.

* * *

><p>With his keys once again twirling around his finger Rich walked away from the truck, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be just a second, make the calls quick."<p>

"Yea, yea. Just buy the beer." Lyssa muttered, she was pressing the End button waiting for her ancient flip phone to turn on. After the greeting message some abstract world symbol appearing on her screen the words "20 missed calls" appeared. "Shit." Clicking the OK button she saw that most were from her mother. Instead of listening to the messages she hit the green call button.

"Hello?" she asked hesitantly, her fingers twisted themselves around the buttons on the cuffs of the flannel shirt.

"Lyssa!" Called a tired version of Sam Winchester's voice.

A tight feeling twisted ahold over her stomach. "Sam, why are you answering my mom's phone?"

"Lyssa you need to get to Bobby's."

The feeling morphed into nausea

"Sam what happened."

He swallowed thickly, "I shouldn't tell you over the phone." His voice sounded like he had been crying.

Lyssa's voice started to take a panicked edge, a man filling up his tires with air next to her looked up concerned, his hand still on the fill button allowing for air to be wasted, "It's going to take me eight hours to get there anyway just tell me."

"We can get Cas to come and get you." She needed to be there fast, no; she needed to be there now. One of her hands went up to her temple, suddenly the world seemed to be teetering, trying to make her fall off her feet and out of control.

"Sam, I have had the worst ideas possible running through my ever since my sister told me her and mom were going to be hunting with you." She swallowed, a tear finally marking a trail down her cheek. "Tell. Me. Now."

"Jo…"

The light headed feeling combined with the nausea forced her to lean back against Rich's four door, "Shit." A few more tears fell.

"Lyssa, I'm so sorry…"

"Please tell me how my mom is. Please put her on." Sam heard the same scared little girl voice that she had had in Philadelphia.

"She's fine, a few scratches…"

"Was it a werewolf?"

"No," he laughed for some reason, how fast she had jumped to conclusions based on injuries, "It was… we, we, we tried to kill the devil. It didn't work."

In the background she could hear a set of heavy boots before there was crackling as Sam switched the phone to his other hand, "What's Cas's number?"

"You can just call his name. You're not marked." The phone closed.

* * *

><p>She was by the dumpster. She could still see the bumper of Rich's car; she was hoping he didn't see her call Cas and his sudden angelic appearance of popping out of thin air.<p>

"Castiel!" Her voice broke a little. She was trying really hard to keep it strong, just like Jo's voice, strong no matter what the situation.

In a whoosh he appeared beside her. He had the same stone look, messy hair, skewed tie. His eyes were a little lighter though. She was half way surprised that he even responded.

Rich rounded the corner and made the short walk to Lyssa and Castiel, eyeing Castiel wearily while he clutched the case of beer, "Alyssa?"

"Rich, I, I got to go home. Something happened. Just tell- tell Connor something bad happened. I've got to go." He wasn't going to test her, not with her sounding like she had just been broken.

He gripped the case of beer and stuck the hand holding his keys onto her shoulder attempting to try the possessing look that Connor pulled off, "Lyssa, hey sweetheart, you're not going to hitch back home."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, she swallowed, trying to hide the evidence that she was upset, "He's a friend, and my mom sent him to come get me."

"Lyssa you have to introduce me to more of your friends." He joked and she gave him a smile for trying.

Lyssa's leg was bouncing, "Tell Connor just to, um, to call me when he comes back. I'll pick my stuff up from his place. I really got to go." She wanted to him go, to just let her get to where she belonged.

"Yea, sweetheart. Call me when you get there." He gave a squeeze to her shoulder and looked over Castiel again.

"Yea, yea. I really got to go." Rich took the cue and started to walk back to the car. Turning her waved.

Lyssa gave a halfhearted yell, "Bye." She swallowed as the bumper disappeared, meaning that Rich had driven off.

His voice cut through the fog of her head, no matter how cheesy she thought it, that's what it was, and she was lost in her thoughts and couldn't tell which way to run, "Ready?"

"Just a second." She wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath, "Yea."

Taking his passenger's hand which made her jump as Castiel had never made any form or even an attempt to make physical contact with her; though she chalked it up to something that came with flying Angel airlines.


End file.
